


Letter

by maryfic



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Gen, Past Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-28 18:37:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2742854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maryfic/pseuds/maryfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reid reflects on his habit of letter-writing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letter

**Author's Note:**

> Random word prompt: letter. 
> 
> Originally posted on my fic tumblr: maryfic.tumblr.com

Spencer knew he was much more mental than physical. He much preferred academic exercises to physical ones, though after his years in the BAU he could pass the tests that were required of him to maintain his status as an FBI agent. But this applied to interactions too, he thought, laying down his pen and waiting for the ink to dry on this week’s missive to his mother.

He was the dutiful son – always one letter a week updating Diana on his exploits as an agent, even if the cases were draped in fantasy that would fit into her delusions. As a knight of the Round Table, Spencer had battled dragons, demonic farm animals under a witch’s curse, witches and wizards, and even competed in jousting tournaments, all to her delight and pride. Her return letters were filled with courtly prose, often in French, and he translated her effusiveness as easily as the language as he read.

He preferred this method of communication when it came to others who weren’t his mother. Gideon had been the same, and the letter he’d left, while unsatisfying, had been able to allow Spencer to close the door on the broken pieces of their relationship when the older man had essentially run away from his life.

After he’d killed (or saved) Tobias, he’d spent long hours saturated by the haze of Dilaudid, and when it wore off, he found letters, scratched onto any paper he’d been able to find, to the young man. Anger and fear of Raphael and Charles mixed with confusion and an odd affection towards Tobias. The stress of the weekend had created terrible feelings within him, and it made his desire to escape into the drug stronger. With Hotch’s help, he found a way to pull away from both the drug and the specter of Tobias and those letters were burned, but the words remained in his mind.

His communiques at work were usually written – notes to himself, or Hotch, or JJ or Garcia. He and Emily had made a game of it, creating secret codes and passing notes like schoolchildren across the bullpen. They made up riddles to give their minds something to mull over after cases, neither able to fully disengage with music or a book for distraction.

Spencer reached for an already addressed envelope and slid the folded letter inside, sealing it with a damp sponge and then the wax his mother liked to see, even if the envelopes were “much too thin, Spencer, anyone could see what is inside”. But vellum parchment was difficult to find and rather expense for everyday use.

He would drop the latest letter in the mailbox near the train station, and start another week of potentially life-threatening work that would, as always, be formed into an illusory tapestry for a mind just like his. Only broken.


End file.
